


The Laws of Physics

by shouldertouching



Category: Portal (Video Game), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural, M/M, Other, Supernatural AU: Portal!Verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-06 18:28:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shouldertouching/pseuds/shouldertouching
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester, an orange-jumpsuited, brain-damaged test subject armed with a sawed-off Portal Gun, and his blue-eyed Core companion Castiel, are on a mission to escape the crumbling remnants of Aperture Laboratories. But when they accidentally awaken the yellow-eyed demon AI GLaDOS, they realize it might not be as easy as they thought...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Courtesy Call

 

 

**Chapter One**

  
**The Courtesy Call**

* * *

 

_"Good morning. You have been in suspension for... **50** days._ ”

“Nnn…th’hell?” Dean lifted his head from his pillow at the sound of the chirpy, robotic voice above him, the fabric of his standard issue Aperture Science Pillowcase slick from… _apparently 50 days’ worth_ of saliva. He wiped at the side of his mouth, eyelids creasing at the corners, and took a look around the room. The artificial sunlight filtering in through the “windows” temporarily blinded him.

Sure as hell didn’t feel like 50 days since he last woke up, moved around and stretched his legs. He swiveled his body around, bare feet sliding against itchy – and incredibly tacky – Aperture Science Brand carpeting. Jesus, his neck was _sore_.

 _In compliance with state and federal regulations, all testing candidates in the Aperture Science Extended Relaxation Center must be revived periodically for a mandatory physical and mental wellness exercise_.

  
“Aw, hell…” Not another one of these. They were so goddamn stupid. Honestly, whoever was in control of all this crap treated him like he had brain damage or something.

_You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, look up at the ceiling._

_BZZZZZTTTT!!!_

He sighed, already agitated, and looked up at the ceiling as instructed. The computer chirped pleasantly.

_Good. You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, look down at the floor._

_BZZZZZTTTT!!!_

Dean looked down. _Ugh._ The color of the carpet was so gross. He couldn’t exactly place it… was it like a wet algae green? Naw, dumpster green. _That was it_.

As a kid, he had read about these things called “motels”, though he had never actually been in one. Being the son of a man who worked for Aperture Science meant that, well, you hardly ever left the place. He faintly remembered seeing a picture of a motel room in an Aperture Science Text Book, same dumpster green carpeting, same cheesy beach-themed wallpaper, except in the photograph parts of the paper had started to peel in thick, brown strips, and the mold-dappled wood underneath peaked through. Needless to say it wasn’t a good memory.

_Good. This completes the gymnastic portion of your mandatory physical and mental wellness exercise._

“Oh, fantastic, computer! That was a great workout!” He scratched idly at the ill-fitting orange jumpsuit. “What’s next?”

_There is a framed painting on the wall. Please go stand in front of it._

Dean looked to his right, and with a small grunt he got to his feet, although… “Son of a **bitch** …” God, his back... He was getting too old for this crap. Clutching his lower back, he waddled over to the painting, the all-too-chipper voice piping up as soon as he stood in front of it. That had always creeped him out. Motion sensors. Cameras everywhere. This place was too smart for its own damn good.

_This is “art”. You will hear a buzzer. When you hear the buzzer, stare at the “art"._

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me…”

_BZZZZZTTTT!!!_

Dean rolled his eyes, still massaging his aching spine, then focused his attention on the landscape. A snow-capped mountain nestled atop rolling green hills and a lone cabin on the edge of a still lake stared back at him. And possibly something else. He wasn’t quite sure. Big Brother, after all, was watching.

_Ti-tick. Ti-tick. Ti-tick. Ti-tick._

The PA system rewarded him with another satisfied chirp.

_You should now feel mentally reinvigorated. If you suspect staring at “art” has not provided the required intellectual sustenance, reflect briefly on this “classical music”._

A soft tune played over the loud speaker. Dean pursed his lips.

“Th’hell is this? This ain’t classical music! Play some Metallica or some ACDC, or—“

_BZZZZZTTTT!!!_

Dean nearly latched onto the ceiling at the sound of the buzzer.

_Good. Now, please return to your bed._

With one last, exasperated sigh, Dean Winchester did as he was told, returning to the bed and stretching out upon it.

He learned from a young age that it wasn’t wise to disobey the big bosses at Aperture. His father, John, taught him that, before the one thing he had been working on his entire life turned around and killed him with deadly neurotoxin.

White light surrounded him again as he slowly slipped back into stasis.

Funny how the world works, isn’t it?

 

 

* * *

 

_Goood morrnnnngg._

“Hnng?” Dean awoke in a slow, almost drunk sort of panic, the sudden, eerie dissonance of the voice blaring over the PA system rousing him from suspension. His eyelids fluttered, expecting bright “sunlight” to hit him, but the room was dark. An odd, dank smell filled the air. “Th’hell’s goin’ on?”

_Yoo have beenng in suspension forrrgg... 9999...9999—This courtesy call is to inform you that all subjects must vacate the Enrichment Center immediately._

He rose to his feet, looking expectantly at the ceiling. “What?!”

_Any test subject not emerging from suspension at this time will be assumed to have exercised his or her right to remain in Extended Relaxation for the duration of the destruction of this facility._

“Woah woah woah, hold up, _destruction_? This place is being destroyed? Now? As we speak? And you’re expecting me to _stay here_?!"

The PA system did not respond.

"Well you can _kiss my ass_! I'm outta here!”

_“Hello?”_

Dean swiveled around in his spot at the sudden noise, muscles tensing. The voice was coming from the door.

He waited in silence for a few minutes, assessing. Whatever it was, it was banging against the door, as if it were trying to knock. Or break in. Whichever.

_“Hello, is anyone in there?"_

_thump_

_thump_

_thump_

Wait a minute… Dean looked up to the ceiling, his gaze following the line of thin railing that led from a panel in the center of the room down the corridor and out, past his door, into the hallway. Was a _Core_ trying to get into his room?

The PA system drolled on as he strode, barefoot, across the dumpster carpet to let the thing in.

_If you have questions or concerns regarding this policy, or if you require a Spanish Language Version of this message, feel free to take a complimentary piece of stationary from the desk drawer in front of you and write us a letter. Good luck._

The Core, or whatever it was outside his room, spoke up again, its voice deep and scratchy.

__"I request that you open this door immediately for your own safety.”_ _

“Okay, Customer Service, what the hell is going on here---“ As Dean opened the door, a sleek, blue-eyed Core thrust itself into the room as fast as its ceiling attachment would let it. Dean had never seen a Core before, though he had seen schematics for them lying around in his dad’s old office. He vaguely remembered his father talking about a Damper Core, but… this couldn’t have been it. Why would something so important to Aperture just be speeding around on its own like this?

 _“Hello, Dean.”_ The Core turned around slowly as it moved to the center of the room, its singular blue eye looking Dean over. He felt uneasy, as if he were being dissected.

He immediately went on the defensive, like a dog being threatened by another dog. Bent over, snarling, the hair on the back of its neck standing on end. "How the hell do you know my name?"

The Core shook its round head - or body, Dean wasn't sure which - the action causing its hinges to squeak shrilly. " _That is not important,"_  it said, _"Please remain calm and prepare yourself for--"_

The PA suddenly halted from its prerecorded loop and blared out a direct command:

_PLEASE PREPARE FOR IMMEDIATE EVACUATION_

Dean instantly grew tense, his eyes growing wide with panic. "I swear to God, if you don't tell me what the  _hell_ is going on, I'll pull you down off of your track and use you as a basketball, you got me?"

The Core did not seem fazed.  _"Remain calm, Dean Winchester. I will assist you during the evacuation."_ As it spoke, it slowly crept towards the panel in the center of the ceiling, which opened once the Core got near it. This made Dean all the more uncomfortable.

"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

The Core ignored him, making Dean all the more furious.

"A-At least give me your name, you sonofabitch. If you have one, anyway..."

At the mention of a name, the Core stopped, rotated its bright blue eye, and simply said in a deadpan sort of voice:  _"You may call me Castiel, if you wish. Oh. And you might want to hang on to something..."_


	2. Prison Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel offers to help Dean get out of the Relaxation Center, though whether he's dead or alive really isn't mentioned. And what's this "portal gun" thing he keeps hearing about?

**Chapter Two**

  
**Prison Break**

* * *

Dean blinked at the Core in mild confusion.

“ _Castiel?_   What the hell kind of a name is that for a robot? What does that even _mean?!_ ” But it ignored him and disappeared into the ceiling panel, leaving Dean alone in the room. Suddenly the floor jerked beneath him, nearly knocking him off his feet.

Okay, this seriously wasn’t funny anymore.

“Castiel? _Hey!_ Answer me, you tiny, blue-eyed _dick!!_ ”

It didn’t answer. Dean gulped as the room jerked again, then started to _move_ , as if it were on a track.

“Oh _crap—“_

Dean panicked. He left the Core behind, heading straight for the door, but upon arrival he found he was unable to open it. No matter how hard he rattled the door knob, or kicked at the steel frame, it wouldn’t budge. “Son of a bitch…”

Terrified and sore, Dean did the only thing he could think of. To the right of his bed there was _supposed_ to be a closet. He guessed it was in the floor plan, but whoever had designed this piece of shit room forgot to put a door there, or any shelves. It was just a plaster archway, wide and empty.

It was all he had left.

Dean ran into the closet and stretched his arms out wide, bracing himself against the arch and shutting his eyes.

“Stop the ride, I wanna get _off!”_

Loud and angry _whirs_ and crashes assaulted his eardrums until finally, a few minutes later, the movement and the noises stopped.

Castiel poked its head out of the ceiling and swiveled its eye around to Dean, assessing.

_“Dean, are you hurt?”_

Dean opened a single eye and looked around the room, still not convinced that the worst was over. “I’m fine… more or less…”

“ _Good. Most test subjects do experience some cognitive deterioration after a few months in suspension. You have been in stasis for a lot longer than normal, so it is quite possible that you might be suffering from minor brain damage—“_

“ ** _Brain damage_** _?!_ First you put me through all this crap then you tell me I’ve got _screws loose_?! _”_

_“—though considering your speech patterns and your ability to move properly you seem to be in good physical condition—“_

_“_ ”You have got to be kidding me…”

The panels of Castiel’s ‘eye’ narrowed. _“I assure you, I am not telling a joke.”_

“Well you damn well better be, or so help me God I’m suing these motherf—“

_BRRRRRT! BRRRRRRT! BRRRRRRT!_

Castiel’s single eye grew tiny in artificial terror. “ _Oh no.”_

_“Oh no?! What do you mean ‘ **oh no’**?!”_

The previously chirpy voice over the PA now sounded grim and foreboding. Dean didn’t like its tone.

_All reactor core safe guards are now nonfunctional. Please prepare for reactor core meltdown._

Without another word, the Core went back into the ceiling, again leaving Dean alone to fend for himself.

“No. Nonononono!” He’d had it with this shit. Climbing up on the bed, Dean pounded on the metal plate until his knuckles turned purple. “Open the door, goddammit, _open the front door!”_

There was no response.

Again, the room started to shift, but this time with so much force that Dean fell backwards, hitting his head hard on a sharp corner. He felt warmth oozing over the back of his scalp as the walls at the far end of the room started to crumble, crisp white light streaming through the cracks as the room lurched forward.

“ _Dean, get to the door, now!”_

“Huhn?” Dean heard the voice, but saw no sign of the Core. Was it using the PA system in his room to communicate with him? “Get to the door?” He lifted a hand, touching the back of his head. His palm came back red. _Shit._ “The door’s locked, _dumbass_!!”

As the room continued to move, the panels of the ceiling began to peel away and crumble to the floor in large sheets. White dust speckled his orange jump suit.

_“I wasn’t going to mention this, but... The reserve power has run out...”_ Castiel shouted, the room lurching sharply to the left. _“The whole Relaxation Center has started waking up the test subjects, but they won’t be awake for long.”_

“Oh, _that’s_ reassuring!”

_“Just get to the hallway, and stay there! I’ll get you out of here, no problem. Hold on—“_

The room stopped abruptly, bumping up against something outside. Another room, maybe? Dean scrambled back to the door as quickly as he could, braced himself up against a wall, and peered out at their surroundings. He saw miles and miles of boxes, stacked on top of one another. Christ, those were rooms... How many people were in this place?!

_“Oh my. This will be tricky.”_

The floor drooped suddenly as Castiel maneuvered the room downward, trying to get it through an empty space in the layout. But was there enough room?

“Down. Down!” Dean waved his hands madly in an attempt to get the Core to listen to him. He felt like an air traffic controller. “You’re going to scrape the top! Keep going dow—“

But it was too late. The room shook, a horrendous metallic grinding assaulting Dean’s ears. A few ceiling panels fell through the holes in the floor, disappearing into the Facilities’ never ending depths.

“Good job, knucklehead...”

Castiel made a noise that Dean assumed was a soft of ‘huff’. _“I can hear everything you’re saying, you know...”_

“THEN WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU LISTEN TO M—“

_“It’s alright, Dean. We’re nearly there.”_

“Nearly **where**?!”

The room started to sway back and forth, like a pendulum. It nearly made Dean sick to his stomach.

_“On the other side of that wall is one of the old testing tracks,”_ Castiel said. _“There’s a piece of equipment in there that you’re gonna need to get out of here.”_

Dean threw up his hands, then realized that was a bad idea and pressed himself to the wall again. “Great! Fantastic. Could have told me this, you know, before you started _moving the goddamn room around_!!”

_“I do apologize.”_ Castiel didn’t sound sincere about that, though. _“But there is no need for that sort of language.”_

“There’s no need for me to pull your ass outta there and tear you apart, piece by piece, but I’m thinkin’ about it...”

The room swiveled, and through the cracks in the drywall Dean could see a gray, cement wall with the words “DOCKING STATION” printed in bold, yellow letters over the center.

Well that looked welcoming.

_“I think..._ ” declared the Core, _“that this is a docking station.”_

“Naw, really? Jeeze, who woulda thought?”

_“Get ready!”_

Dean’s eyes widened in intense horror. “Woah. Woah woah _woah_ there, buddy, that’s a wall!”

The room hurtled forwards.

“That’s a solid wall, dumbass, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

With a loud _crash_ , the remains of the room slammed into the “docking station”, causing a few bits of cement to buckle and fall away.

Dean was nearly thrown towards the front of the room, but he quickly scrambled back to the hallway. He felt like a friggin’ rag doll being tossed around.

_“Good news!”_ the Core said cheerfully. _“That is **not** a docking station!”_

“Great.” Dean’s voice was hoarse. The sheer terror he felt was starting to affect him. It felt like his throat was closing up. Or maybe that was the concussion. Or the blood loss. “Fantastic. Go, team.”

_“I’m going to attempt a manual override on this wall.”_

“No!” Dean held his hands up, pleading. “No no _no_ , don’t you dare! Not again!”

_“Hang on!”_

_“Son of a bitch...”_

The room plummeted forward, smashing headlong into the cement wall until it finally crumbled, giving way to a whole other section of the Facility that Dean had never seen before.

Though he tried to hold on as best as he could, Dean went flying as soon as his room broke the barrier. He cried out, attempting to grab onto something, _anything_ to save him, but nothing came within reach. He fell, headfirst, into a small glass chamber. Vines crept up the sides, and broken glass littered the floor beneath him.

_"Remember,"_ he heard a voice call, _"that you're looking for a gun! Not one that fires bullets; it fires portals. They're these... ahh, you'll see what I mean. Good luck!"_

“Jeeze...” he rubbed the back of his head, wincing upon remembering that he had hit his head earlier. He examined his palm. Still bleeding. Shit. “That was one hell of a wake up call...”

_Hello_ a voice chirped. _And again, welcome to the Aperture Science Enrichment Center._

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, Lindsay here! This is my first Supernatural fanfiction, let alone my first crossover fanfiction, so thanks in advance for reading it. I'm really looking forward to your comments, critiques, suggestions, or anything else you'd like to throw at me. If you have any questions, feel free to send those my way as well! I promise I won't kill you with deadly neurotoxin~


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